


This Is My Kingdom Come

by quicksilverdeancas (quicksilvermalec)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (but not really), Alcohol, Angst, Better Than Canon, Drunk Dean Winchester, Fluff, Forgive Me, Getting Together, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Going to Hell, I'm Sorry, I'm bad the the whole 'supernatural' thing, Injury, M/M, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Impala - Freeform, The Violence Isn't That Graphic, but Sam gets hurt, enjoy, legal drinking, sam and dean - Freeform, sammy winchester - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 07:38:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19436911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksilvermalec/pseuds/quicksilverdeancas
Summary: "Stop the car."#~+~#Dean has never been good at expressing his emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and keep them hidden. But he loves Sam and Castiel with his whole heart, and he will do anything to protect them.He's very, very hard on himself when he fails.





	This Is My Kingdom Come

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writingisntapastime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingisntapastime/gifts).



> This was fun to write. Mostly because I love angst. Many thanks to the beautiful [writingisntapastime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingisntapastime) for helping me develop this idea into a full story.
> 
> Enjoy!!!

Driving down that deserted rural woodland road, Sam was greatly regretting his words.

His arm was still aching a little, but it wasn't as bad as Dean seemed to think.

He stared straight ahead, not looking at his brother at the wheel or the angel in the back, just watching the seemingly endless identical stretches of road pass him by until the silence became unbearable.

He sighed and slammed the heel of his hand on the dashboard. When he spoke, his voice was rough and commanding.

"Stop the car."

#~+~#

Dean hadn't wanted to take this hunt. "Too many uncontrollable variables," he'd said, (Sam had replied with "that's never stopped us before. We're good at adapting.") and "too dangerous."

(To which Sam had shot back, "you've been through literal hell and I'm evading possession by Lucifer. A shade haunting a mansion is nothing.")

But it had taken one extra little push, two words Sam now wished he hadn't said.

"Open bar."

"What?" Dean had said, looking perplexed. Sam had slid the pamphlet promoting the event across the table to him.

"There's an open bar at this party."

Dean scoffed and slammed his book shut with a note of finality. "So we're taking this case."

#~+~#

They went to the party. 

Sam cased the joint, walked around, watched the crowd, flirted with one girl he was 100% sure was Gabriel in disguise (and three more he was only 90% sure of), and drank non-alcoholic punch (designated driver duty).

He tried to search for some signs of the shade, but he was unfortunately very quickly distracted by playing an intricate game of cat-and-mouse with an archangel (and watching his jerk brother stare longingly at Cas over a bowl of chips).

By the time girl #5 approached him, he was becoming increasingly exhausted by pretending he didn't know what was going on.

He sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes.

"Look Gabe, if you wanted to flirt with me you could've come as yourself."

The girl looked shocked, but once she recovered, her form melted into that of a short blond. Sam smiled at him.

"Hi, Gabriel."

"Hello, Sam."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence that lasted for the better part of two seconds before they were interrupted by a resounding crash that appeared to be the result of a painting in a huge ornate frame falling off the wall.

Sam felt fear, surprise, shock, recognition, and finally firm, solid resolve flicker across his face in half a second. He saw Gabriel smirking at him out of the corner of his eye and thought he heard him say something that sounded a little like the words, "go do your job" before the blond archangel-mojoed himself out of existence.

(That's probably not true; he more likely just reappeared on the other side of assfuck nowhere.)

Sam locked eyes with Dean across the room and they had a split-second brotherly telepathic conversation that consisted entirely of delegating responsibilities.

Dean pulled his gun out of his suit and went through the door immediately to his left; Castiel followed him. Sam went over to examine the painting and discovered that it was entirely whole and in no way dented, damaged, or splintered, despite having fallen from fifteen feet up onto a tile floor.

He jerked his head up and his green eyes met a pair of pure black ones.

They were attached to a girl who couldn't have been older than seventeen with ashen and pale skin and long dark hair.

And eyes of ebony.

 _Here's our shade_ , Sam thought. 

He stood and rushed over to her, taking her by the arm and leading her toward a room that wasn't full of innocent people. She thrashed and writhed and Sam saw Dean in the hallway, saw his eyes widen as he twisted to point his rock-salt-loaded gun at her, watched him hesitate for just a second. 

In that second, the girl broke free of Sam's grip and turned on his, slicing a deep gash in his arm from shoulder to elbow. Then Dean shot her, and she went down, hitting the ground just seconds after Sam did.

" _Et nunc absolvo vos hiems_ ," the younger hunter whispered, and the girl disappeared into smoke.

He was on the floor, clutching his left arm with his right hand, and Dean barely got the safety clicked on before the gun dropped heavily to the ground.

Dean knelt beside his brother. "Sammy, are you okay?" he asked insistently, his brows knitting together with worry. 

"Yeah, Dean, I'm - _ah_ \- I'm fine."

Then Cas showed up, and Dean exhaled a soft sound of relief before sitting back on his haunches, instantly looking much more relaxed.

Cas looked at Sam for a minute, touched his arm gently with his fingertips, then said, "I think it would be unwise for me to heal you with my grace. However, I can administer First Aid. Dean, I would recommend you leave."

Dean nodded his assent, stood up, clapped Sam on his uninjured shoulder in a rare gesture of brotherly affection, and rejoined the throngs of people enjoying themselves who had no idea what had just gone down in an adjacent room.

Cas cleaned and wrapped Sam's arm fairly quickly and painlessly, and then they spent twenty minutes trying to find Dean. 

Eventually they gave up, called him, and told him to meet them at the Impala. 

Dean had showed up, not said any damn thing about why they couldn't locate him, and slid into the driver's seat. Cas and Sam had shared a dubious look but joined him in the car.

And now they were driving down a deserted road, flanked by trees on either side, and Sam was wishing he'd never mentioned the open bar. 

Because he observed the way Dean was driving, a little bit messy, signaling too late, not going quite straight (not that Dean had ever done anything in his entire life "quite straight" but that was a different matter). And he had come to the conclusion that Dean was wasted. 

He stared straight ahead, not looking at his brother at the wheel or the angel in the back, just watching the seemingly endless identical stretches of road pass him by until the silence became unbearable.

He sighed and slammed the heel of his hand on the dashboard. When he spoke, his voice was rough and commanding.

"Stop the car."

Dean didn't react in any visible way, and the car went back to stiflingly quiet.

"Dean," said Cas from the backseat, in a tone that told Sam that he knew Dean was drunk as well. "Turn your brights on."

Dean did, taking one hand off the wheel to do so (Chuck only knows why), and almost drove them off the road and directly into a tree.

Sam gave up on his apparently hopeless pursuit of 'trusting my brother to know when to stop'.

When had Dean ever known when to stop?

"Dean Winchester," he said slowly, "stop this car."

Dean didn't. He just gripped the wheel tighter until his knuckles turned white and gritted his teeth and ignored his sibling. 

"Pull over, Dean," Sam told him warningly. Dean acted like he hadn't heard him. "Pull over!" Sam demanded. When he continued to ignore him, he actually shouted, "Dean, _pull the fuck over!_ "

The brunet's continued lack of a reaction drained all the fight out of Sam, so he just slung an arm across the two front seats and twisted his upper body to look at the angel they were currently toting in the back.

"Cas, tell Dean to pull over."

Cas cocked his head to one side. "What makes you think he will listen to me when he won't even listen to you?"

"Just do it," Sam sighed resignedly, "before he gets us all killed."

Cas gave him a look that clearly said that he didn't think this plan was going to work, but to his credit, he leaned forward and placed a hand on the driver's shoulder anyway.

"Dean," he whispered softly, "you really should pull over. Please."

Dean's eyes widened slightly and he let out a breath before spinning the wheel and sliding into the shoulder of the road.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief, shoving the passenger door open. 

"Get out, brother. I'm driving."

"Sammy, you're hurt," Dean protested, opening his door and stepping out but standing in the way of Sam getting into the seat.

Sam looked at him for a second, then made a snap decision. He pulled his left fist back and punched his brother squarely in the jaw.

"See, Dean?" he said afterward. "I'm fine."

Dean gave him a death glare, holding his hand to the side of his face, but he walked around the front of the Impala to settle himself in the passenger seat.

Once Sam was in the idling car, he grabbed the keys and switched the car off, then jerked them out of the ignition. He turned to his brother, who was still nursing the side of his face.

"Oh my god, you're fine," Sam muttered angrily, and Dean sighed and removed his hand. 

"How much did you drink?" Sam all but growled. Dean gave him an introspective look.

"Uh... five vodka shots, two beers, and half a bottle'a whiskey."

"Five sh- Jesus _fucking_ Christ!" Sam screamed. "God in heaven Lucifer in Hell and Castel on earth what were you _thinking_ trying to drive this car in that condition?"

Dean actually broke out into a fit of hysterics at that. Once it subsided, he managed to say, "I was tryna protect my baby brother."

"By what, endangering both our lives by driving under the influence?"

"It was my fault, Sammy," Dean murmured solemnly. That got Sam to freeze.

"What?"

"You got hurt cause I didn't wanna shoot her. I froze 'n' she cut you."

"You fucking- no, it wasn't your fault, Dean! I should've been able to handle a shade on my own and I couldn't, it was _my_ fault. That's why you disappeared to the bar?"

Dean nodded. Sam threw up his hands, completely out of words to say.

Cas piped up helpfully from the backseat. "Actually, both of you are incorrect. It was neither of your fault. None of us could have predicted what she'd do."

Dean turned to look at him and deflated. "Cas, you... you're just so... I love you."

Cas stared at him. "You're not in your right mind, Dean. You're drunk. You don't mean that."

"Yeah I do," Dean insisted. "I would just never say it to ya sober cause you're so... beautiful and powerful angel and I'm just a weak-ass mortal with no special qualities to speak of."

"Don't. Say that," Cas hissed intensely. Sam took that as his cue to leave.

He took a walk only as far from the car as he could go while still being within shouting distance. As he stood in the shoulder of the road with his hands in his pockets, a very familiar archangel appeared next to him.

"Hey," he greeted warmly. Gabriel smiled. 

"You need me to heal that for you?" he asked, indicating Sam's bandages.

"Nah," Sam said. "I'll be fine. I'm mostly just weak and tired from blood loss."

"You shouldn't drive drowsy."

"It's better'n Dean driving drunk."

"How about I drive?"

Sam sucked in a breath. "You... you want to come with us?"

Gabriel shrugged quite amicably. "I like you, Samsquatch," he admitted bluntly. "And you travel with my brother, who I like, and I guess Dean's not so bad either - although even if he was, I have an inkling feeling I'd have to get used to him cause it'll be a nightmare to drag him off of Cas at this point."

"What do you mean?"

Gabriel nodded at the car. Sam followed his gaze to where Dean was climbing over the center console into the back, engaged in an intense liplock with Cas. Sam smiled to himself.

Then he gathered his courage and turned back to his archangel. "I don't suppose you'd let me do that to you, would you?" he asked.

Gabriel's mouth was on his almost before he finished the question.

#~+~#

It could have been worse, Sam supposed as he mulled it over from the passenger seat. He looked at his boyfriend at the wheel, and his brother with his own angel in the back, and thought that they got something good out of this.

Maybe the Winchesters could have a happy ending. Maybe not everything had to end bloody.

_[fin]_

**Author's Note:**

> Translation:  
>  _Et nunc absolvo vos hiems_ means 'I release you from winter' in Latin.
> 
> Title from 'Demons' by Imagine Dragons.
> 
> Love,  
> -Sil


End file.
